Oʟɪᴠᴇʀ
Pretending to be a likeable person is truly exhausting.
Truly - I commend the people which manage to capture the essence of simpatico without breaking a sweat.
After remedying the tense atmosphere caused by disagreeing with Matilda, Hallie's mother - my brief arguing against the rude and uncalled for insult by calling her daughters attire immodest - things settle once more. Still, I make a point of asking Helena if she needs a jumper when she shivers slightly, prompting her to inconspicuously button higher on her blouse.
It doesn't embarrass her however. Helena makes eyes - bedroom eyes - at me over the table. In different circumstances, I might be flattered, but I've come to learn she's a rather horrible person, and no amount of good looks could ever steal her of that title. Matilda watches me too - she, unlike David - doesn't at all seem best pleased with my presence.
He's settled with my company magnificently, and while he still acts rather entitled and narcissistic, I find myself confident that over the next few months, I could come to get along with him quite nicely.
For the length of dinner, Hallie remains quiet. I know her mother's comment left her discomfited, and I know her temper is dissipating rapidly whenever Helena laughs slightly too hard at my jokes. For a short while, I try to engage her in conversation, even if just for cropped responses and some assistance in relaying the false stories of our relationship, but she doesn't engage and I fall tired of trying.
Matilda asks how we met - Hallie and I decided to keep it simple and vague, if slightly cliche. A coffee shop, where the only available seat was opposite her. We chatted, laughed, I left with her number and the rest is history. I know, cliche, but married drunk in Vegas hardly rings unique either, does it?
They ask of our first date; we didn't date for a long while. We were friends, before we ventured into the unexplored terrain of romance. We simply had a meal at my house (over a weekend where she was conveniently out of Oxford for work) and decided from then on, we would date in secret, away from family, friends, and most importantly, tabloids.
Matilda asks when - not how - I proposed. I answer a month ago. Before her promotion to CEO was confirmed and therefore, suggesting that her newfound wealth was of no incentive to me. We eloped, just over one week ago, during the weekend in Vegas.
It almost made me laugh, how out all the stories we have fabricated, the impulsive marriage in the States is the one that is the closest thing to true.
With dinner finished, Grace brings out brandy - a digestif apparently, although it just seems like an excuse to have more alcohol to me.
Helena has stolen the show once more, telling us all about her wedding plans, honeymoon plans, moving plans. I almost comment on how very little of her plans are anything but well wishes, but I've seen the heels that Hallie is wearing tonight and I'd quite like to return home without puncture wounds in my feet.
"We need an engagement party mummy," she then says, taking the hand of her mother beside her. I fire a look at Hallie for the choice of phrase, and she is already looking at me, corners of her lips curled upwards as she tries to fight against the smile threatening to spill.
"Well, I was thinking the same," David comments, much to my surprise. "And, I think it's only right to celebrate Hallie's marriage too." I feel her clench beside me as the air around her thickens stagnantly with panic.
YOU ARE READING
In Drunken Matrimony ✔️
Teen Fiction[WATTYS 2022 SHORTLIST] Oliver Osborne is known to most as impulsive, nonchalant, and just downright stupid. That said, it came as no surprise when he accidentally tied the knot in Las Vegas two years ago. What is surprising is that he was stupid e...
